"That's odd. I refused to sign a petition in his behalf to the Recorder; not from any ill-will to him, but because it was prepared by a person whom I particularly dislike— Captain Darrell. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. She could not help devouring him a little with her eyes across the Burger King booth, handsome shoulders visibly solid underneath his ridiculous polo shirt, his eyes all sweetness and light. I must go and dress at once. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. She felt sleepy and unusually irritable. Melusine’s heart jumped and she felt heat rising into her cheeks. "I owe you nothing," he repeated, dully.
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